


Friends and Comrades

by HopeCoppice



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Inanimate object personification, Milkbottle, Shadwell is a little detached from reality, There's like pre-pre-Shadwell/Tracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27489421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: The day before Madame Tracy moves in next door, Shadwell has a completely normal day with his friends and comrades - with no idea how his life is about to change.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19
Collections: GO-events NTA #9 - Milkbottle After Dark





	Friends and Comrades

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the GO-events server's Name That Author (Round 9). The prompt was simply 'Milkbottle'.

The day before she moves in next door is completely normal.

Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell wakes up, grumbles about the sunlight streaming in through the rip in the curtains, and shuffles into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea with nine sugars. Then it’s time to inspect the troops.

“Right, then, who’s it to be today?”

The cereal boxes in their neat rank betray no hint of fear as he makes his selection. Cornflakes, that’s the man for the job. He tips some into a bowl and finds that Lance-Corporal Cornflakes’ tour is over. He is honourably discharged into the bin, a pride to his brother, Private Bran Flakes, and to his country. Next up is Lieutenant Milkbottle; Shadwell wills his courage not to fail until his duty’s done, and sure enough he gives all he can to the cause. He’s about to be rinsed and pensioned off to the doorstep when he abruptly topples from the table. Shadwell makes a mental note to record him as Killed In Action - but then he glances down to find him intact on the floor.

“That sort of gumption deserves a promotion,” he tells him, “keep it up, you’ll be a Major yet.”

After breakfast, he pops out for a spot of reconnaissance and returns with a selection of civilian intelligence dossiers. He and Sergeant Scissors make quick work of them, and then it’s time for Shadwell to go out recruiting. He and Staff Sergeant Signboard bellow at the unheeding masses for a while - well, Shadwell bellows, and Signboard offers silent tactical support - before returning to base carrying a copy of the  _ Evening Standard,  _ with which Sergeant Scissors assists him again. Then, since the general public have made some contributions to the War Effort today, Shadwell makes a supply run to the local chippy.

It’s a good day, the day before she comes. Shadwell works. He eats. He spends the day with all his friends and comrades, and then he writes up his unit’s movements, hides the logbook under his mattress, and goes to sleep at a reasonable time.

The next day, everything changes. Soon she’s interrupting his duties to offer him tea, or food, or civilian chatter. Although he strongly suspects that as well as being a Jezebel, she may also be involved in witch-like activities, he doesn’t act against her. Not yet.

Even months later, he still doesn’t accuse the Jezebel of witchcraft. Captain Milkbottle urges him to have the courage of his convictions, and Shadwell has to admire that sort of dedication to the work. Captain Milkbottle is promoted to Major - “What’d I tell you, eh?” - and, thus burdened with command, seems to forget his suspicions entirely.

Shadwell keeps the Jezebel at arm’s length, but he eats the food she leaves him. He scrubs her plates with a care he has never extended to anything else in his grubby little flat. And he returns them, with a snarl, eyes closed.

He doesn’t see any witchcraft, so he doesn’t act.


End file.
